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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


SONGS   OF   SEVEN. 


BY 


JEAN     INGELOW. 


EllustraUt). 


X 


BOSTON: 

ROBERTS  BROTHERS. 

,885. 


Copyright,  1S81, 
By  Roberts  Brothers. 


^  7^/^ 


^ 


/<r<r/ 


The  full-page  illustrations  are  designed  by  Miss  C.  A. 
NoKTHAii  and  J.  Fkancis  Murphy  ;  the  tiilepage,  and  those 
in  the  text,  by  Edmund  H.  Garuett.  The  book  is  prepared 
and  the  illustrations  engraved  by  Geo.  T.  Andrew. 


1575070 


,  Page 

Seven  Times  One  :    Exultation      .....;.  13 

Seven  Times  Two  :   Romance 16 

Seven  Times  Three  :    Love 23 

Seven  Times  Four  :    Maternity 26 

Seven  Times  Five  :    Widowhood 33 

Seven  Times  Six  :    Giving  in  Marriage     ....  36 

Seven  Times  Seven:    Longing  for  Home  ....  43 


TiTLEPAGE. 

SEVEN   TIMES   ONE 

"  I  am  seven  times  one  to-day  " 
"  The  lambs  play  always,  they  know  no  better" 
' '  You  are  nothing  now  but  a  bow  "  . 
"  0  columbine,  open  your  folded  wrapper" 

SEVEN   TIMES   TWO 

"I  wait  for  my  story  —  the  birds  cannot  sing  it  " 
"  Turn  again,  turn  again,  once  they  rang  cheerily  "  . 
Tailpiece 


SEVEN   TIMES  THREE 

"  Dark,  dark  was  the  garden,  I  saw  not  the  gate  " 
"  You  night-moths  that  hover  where  honey  brims  over" 
Tailpiece 


SEVEN   TIMES   FOUR  .        .         . 

"  Heigh-ho  !  daisies  and  buttercups  ! 

Mother  shall  thread  them  a  daisy  chain." 
"  A  ship  sails  afai-  over  warm  ocean  waters  " 
Tailpiece        


Page 

11 
11 
13 

14 
15 

16 
17 
19 
20 

21 
21 
24 
25 

26 

27 
29 
30 


lO 


Illustrations. 


SEVEN   TIMES   FIVE     .... 
"I  lift  mine  eyes,  and  what  to  see 
But  a  world  happy  and  fair  !  " 

"0  what  an  ear  but  golden  brooms  "    . 
Tailpiece 

SEVEX   TIMES   SIX        .... 

"  Thy  mother's  tenderest  words  are  said, 
Thy  face  no  more  she  views." 

"  To  wed, 
And  with  thy  lord  depart  " 

Tailpiece 

SEVEN   TIMES   SEVEN 

"  Can  I  call  that  home  where  I  anchor  yet, 
Though  my  good  man  has  sailed  ? " 

"  Lightly  she  rocked  to  her  port  remote  " 
"  She  faded  out  on  the  moonlit  foam  " 
"  Tiiere  was  once  a  nest  in  a  hollow  "  . 
"  One  after  one  they  flew  away  " 
Tailpiece  .... 


Page 
31 

31 
34 
35 

36 

37 

39 
40 

41 

41 

43 

44 
4.5 
46 
47 


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EXULTATION. 
"/  am  seven  times  one  to-day." 


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SONGS     OF     SEVEN. 


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Seven    tiines    One. 

EXULTATION. 


n'^HERE'S  no  dew  left   on   the  daisies  and 
clover 

There's  no  rain  left  in  heaven ; 
I've  said  my  "  seven  times  "  over  and  over, 

Seven  times  one  are  seven. 


I  am  old,  so  old,  I  can  write  a  letter ; 

My  birthday  lessons  are  done ; 
The  lambs  play  always,  they  know  no  better ; 

They  are  only  onc^  times  one. 


14  So7zgs  of  Seven. 

0  moon  !  in  the  night  I  have  seen  you  sailing 
And  shining  so  round  and  low ; 

You  were  bright !  ah  bright !  but  your  light  is 
failing : 
You  are  nothing  now  but  a  bow 


ip   1 


You  moon,  have  you  done  something  wrong  in 
,    heaven 

That  God  has  hidden  your  face  ? 
I  hope  if  you  have  you  will  soon  be  forgiven, 

And  slime  again  in  your  place. 


0  velvet  bee,  you're  a  dusty  fellow, 
You've  powdered  your  legs  with  gold  ! 

0  brave  marsh  marybuds,  rich  and  yellow, 
dive  me  your  money  to  hold  ! 


O  columbine,  open  your  lolded  wrapper, 
Where  two  twin  turtle-doves  dwell ! 

0  cuckoopint,  toll  me  the  purple  c]ai)per 
That  hangs  in  your  clear  green  bell. 

And  show  me  your  nest  with  the  young 
ones  in  it  ; 
I  will  not  steal  them  away; 

1  am  old  !  you  may  trust  me,  linnet,  linnet : 
I  am  seven  times  one  to-dav. 


Seven    times     Two. 

ROMANCE. 

~V7"0U  bells  in  the  steeple,  ring,  ring  out  your 
changes, 
How  many  soever  they  be. 
And  let  the  brown  meadow-lark's  note  as  he 
ranges 
Come  over,  come  over  to  me. 


Yet  bird's  clearest  carol  by  fall  or  by  swelling 

No  magical  sense  conveys, 
And  bells  have  forgotten  their  old  art  of  telling 

The  fortune  of  future  days. 


ROMANCE. 
"/  wait  for  jny  story  —  tlic  birds  cannot  sitig  it." 


Songs  of  Seven. 


19 


"  Turn  again,  turn  again,"  once  they  rang  cheerily, 

While  a  boy  listened  alone ; 
Made  his  heart  yearn  again,  musing  so  wearily 

All  by  liimself  on  a  stone. 


Poor  bells  !  I  forgive  you  ;  your  good  days  are  over, 

And  mine,  they  are  yet  to  be ; 
No  listening,  no  longing,  shall  aught,  aught  discover : 

You  leave  the  story  to  me. 


The  foxglove  shoots  out  of  the  green  matted  heather, 

Preparing  her  hoods  of  sn(jw ; 
She  was  idle,  and  slept  till  tlie  sunshiny  weather : 

0,  children  take  lonij  to  orow. 


20 


Songs  of  Seve??. 


I  wish,  and  I  wish  that  the  spring  would  go  faster. 

Nor  long  summer  bide  so  late ; 
And  I  could  otow  on  like  the  foxglove  and  aster, 


For  some  things  are  ill  to  wait. 


I  wait  for  the  day  when  dear  hearts  shall  discover. 
While  dear  hands  are  laid  on  my  head ; 

"  The  child  is  a  woman,  the  book  may  close  over, 
For  all  the  lessons  are  said." 

I  wait  for  my  story  —  the  birds  cannot  sing  it. 

Not  one,  as  he  sits  on  the  tree ; 
The  bells  cannot  ring  it,  but  long  years,  0  bring  it ' 

Such  as  I  wish  it  to  be. 


&     M 


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LOVE. 

'■'■Dark,  dark  was  the  garden,  I  saw  not  the  gale." 


I 


Seven    times    TJiree. 

LOVE. 
LEANED  out  of  window,  I  smelt  the  white 


clover, 

Dark,  dark  was  the  garden,  I  saw  not  the  gate ; 
"  Now,  if  there  be  footsteps,  he  comes,  my  one 
lover  — 
Hush,  niglitingale,  hush  !  0,  sweet  nightingale, 
wait 

Till  I  listen  and  hear 
If  a  step  draweth  near. 
For  my  love  he  is  late ! 


24 


Sou  OS  of  Seven. 


"  The  skies  iii  the  darkness  stoop  nearer  and  nearer, 

A  chister  of  stars  hangs  like  fruit  in  the  tree, 

The  fall  of  the  water  conies  sweeter,  comes  clearer : 

To  what  art  thou  listening,  and  what  dost  thou  see  ? 

Let  the  star-clusters  glow, 

Let  the  sweet  waters  flow, 

And  cross  quickly  to  me. 


"  You  night-motlis  that  hover  where  honey  brims 
over 
From  sycamore  blossoms,  or  settle  or  sleep ; 
You  glow-worms,  shine  out,  and  the  pathway  dis- 
cover 
To  him  that  comes  darkling  along  tliC  rough  steep. 
Ah,  my  sailor,  make  haste, 
For  the  time  runs  to  waste, 
And  my  love  lieth  deep  — 


Songs  of  Seven. 


25 


"  Too  deep  for  swift  telling ;  and  yet,  my  one  lover 

I've  conned  thee  an  answer,  it  waits  thee  to-night." 
By  the  sycamore  passed  he,  and  through  the  white 
clover, 
Then  all  the  sweet  speech  I  had  fashioned  took 
flight; 

But  I'll  love  him  more,  more 
Than  e'er  wife  loved  before. 
Be  the  days  dark  or  bright. 


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f*^i|\  '^(    Seven  times  Four. 


M  A  T  E  R  N  I  T  Y. 


-V-J 


HEIGH-HO  !  daisies  and  buttercups, 
Fair  yellow  daffodils,  stately  and  tall !    C^ 
When  the  wind  wakes  how  they  rock  in  the  grasses. 
And   dance   with    the   cuckoo-buds   slender   and 
small ! 
Here's  two  bonny  boys,  and   here's  mother's  own 
lasses. 

Eager  to  gather  them  all. 


M  A  T  E  R  N  I  T  Y. 


"  Hei^h-ho  !  daisies  and  bitltcrciips  ! 

Mother  shall  thread  them  a  daisy  ehaiii.'" 


Songs  of  Seven. 


29 


Heigh-ho  !  daisies  and  buttercups  ! 

Mother  shall  thread  them  a  daisy  chain ; 
Sing  them  a  song  of  the  pretty  hedge-sparrow, 
That  loved  her  brown  little  ones,  loved  them 
full  fain ; 
Sing,  "  Heart,  thou  art  wide  though  the  house  be 
but  narrow,"  — 

Sing  once,  and  sing  it  again. 


Heigh-ho  !  daisies  and  buttercups, 

Sweet  wagging  cowslips,  they  bend  and  they  bow  ; 
A  ship  sails  afar  over  warm  ocean  waters, 

And  haply  one  musing  doth  stand  at  her  prow. 
O  bonny  brown  sons,  and  0  sweet  little  daughters, 
Maybe  he  thinks  on  you  now ! 


30 


So7igs  of  Seven. 


Heigh-ho !  daisies  and  buttercups, 

Fair  yellow  daffodils,  stately  and  tall  — 
A  sunshiny  world  full  of  laughter  and  leisure, 

And  fresh  hearts  unconscious  of  sorrow  and  thrall  \ 
Send  down  on  their  pleasure  smiles  passing  its  meas- 
ure, 

God  that  is  over  us  all ! 


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WIDOWHOOD. 


"/  lift  mine  eyes,  and  what  to  see 
But  a  world  hafpy  and  fair  !  '''' 


"m   Seven    times  Five.      ^^^-^ 


'"^'  ^>  ^U 


I 


moan 


WIDOWHOOD. 
SLEEP  and  rest,  my  heart  makes      ^  m^ 

Before  I  am  well  awake ;         ""-^^i^*-  '^^  '% 

"Let  me  bleed  !  0  let  me  alone/N-S^'V^P^-- 

Since  I  must  not  break  ! "       -       >,-  ".^^'"3 "  f 'l''^  . 

■  mJ^  ■  ( ' 
For   children   wake,    thouQh    fathers         j^ifi--  ^ 

With  a  stone  at  foot  and  at  head:  f-^^-f        J 
0  sleepless  God,  for  ever  keep,  >;    -     7"' 


sleep 


Keep  both  living  and  dead  ! 


34 


Son  OS  of  Seven. 


I  lift  mine  eyes,  and  what  to  see 
But  a  world  happy  and  fair ! 

I  have  not  wished  it  to  mourn  with 
me, — 
Comfort  is  not  there. 


0  what  anear  but  golden  brooms, 
And  a  waste  of  reedy  rills !         f 

0  what  afar  but  the  fine  glooms 
On  the  rare  blue  hills  !  '\ 

I  shall  not  die,  but  live  forlore 
How  bitter  it  is  to  part ! 

0  to  meet  thee,  my  love,  once  more ! 
0  my  heart,  my  heart ! 


Sojio^s  of  Seven. 

No  more  to  hear,  no  more  to  see ! 

0  that  an  echo  might  wake 
And  waft  one  note  of  thy  psahn  to  me 

Ere  my  heart  strings  brealv  ! 

I  should  know  it  how  faint  soe'er, 
And  with  angel-voices  lilent ; 

0  once  to  feel  thy  spirit  anear, 
I  could  be  content. 

Or  once  between  the  gates  of  gold, 

While  an  entering  angel  trod, 
But  once  —  thee  sitting  to  behold 

On  the  hills  of  God ! 


35 


w 


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I  ii , 


P 

in*'''!' 


|l'i|i,„i.jij_ 


Seven    times    Six. 

GIVING   IX   MAUKIAGE. 

''  I  "^0  bear,  to  nurse,  to  rear, 

To  watch,  and  then  to  lose : 
To  see  my  bright  ones  disappear, 
Drawn  up  like  morning  dews — 
To  liear,  to  nurse,  to  rear, 

To  watch,  and  then  to  lose : 
This  have  I  done  when  God  drew 
near 
Amoncf  his  ovm  to  choose. 

o 

MUlllliiimiMlillaiJiki^iia^^^  


GIVING    IN    MARRIAGE. 


"  Thy  mother's  tcndcrcst  -words  are  said, 
Thy  face  no  more  she  views.'''' 


So7ios  of  Seven. 

To  hear,  to  heed,  to  wed. 

And  with  thy  lord  depart 
In  tears  that  he,  as  soon  as  shed, 

Will  let  no  longer  smart.  — 
To  hear,  to  heed,  to  wed, 

This  while  thou  didst  I  smiled, 
For  now  it  was  not  God  who  said, 

"  Mother,  give  me  thy  child." 


39 


0  fond,  0  fool,  and  l)lind, 

To  God  I  gave  with  tears ; 
But  when  a  man  like  grace  would  find, 

My  soul  put  by  her  fears. 
0  fond,  0  fool,  and  l)lind, 

God  guards  in  happier  spheres ; 
Tliat  man  will  guard  where  he  did  bind 

Is  hope  for  unknown  years. 


40 


Songs  of  Seven. 


To  hear,  to  heed,  to  wed, 

Fair  lot  that  maidens  choose, 
Thy  mother's  tenderest  words  are  said, 

Thy  face  no  more  she  views ; 
Thy  mother's  lot,  my  dear. 

She  doth  in  naught  accuse ; 
Her  lot  to  bear,  to  nurse,  to  rear, 

To  love  —  and  then  to  lose. 


LONGING     FOR     HOME. 


"  Can  I  call  that  home  xvhere  I  anchor  yel, 
Though  my  good  man  has  sailed?  " 


Seven    times    Seven. 

LONGING    FOR    HOME. 

A      SONCx  of  a  boat :  — 

There  was  once  a  boat  on  a  billow : 
Lightly  she  rocked  to  her  port  remote, 

And  the  foam  was  white  in  her  wake  like  snow, 
And  her  frail  mast  bowed  when  the  breeze  would 
blow, 
And  bent  like  a  wand  of  willow. 


44 


Songs  of  Seven. 


I  shaded  uiiiie  eyes  one  day  when  a  boat 

Went  curtseymg  over  the  hillow, 
I  marked  her  course  till  a  daucmg  mote 
She  faded  out  on  the  moonlit  foam, 
And  I  stayed  1)eliind  in  the  dear  loved  home ; 
And  my  thoughts  all  day  were  about  the  boat, 
And  my  dreams  upon  the  pillow. 


I  pray  you  hear  my  song  of  a  boat, 

For  it  is  but  short :  — 
My  boat,  you  shall  find  none  fairer  afloat. 

In  river  or  port. 
Long  I  looked  out  for  the  lad  she  bore. 

On  the  open  desolate  sea. 
And  I  think  he  sailed  to  the  heavenly  shore, 

For  he  came  not  back  to  me  — 

Ah  me ! 


)S\  . 


A  sonti'  of  a  nest :  — 
There  was  once  a  nest  in  a  hollow : 
'?">*f^    Down   in   the   mosses   and    knot-OTass 
pressed, 
Soft  and  warm,  and  full  to  the  brim. 


^''etches  leaned  over  it  purple  and  dim, 


■r- 


With  buttercup  buds  to  follow. 


I  pray  you  hear  my  song  of  a  nest, 

For  it  is  not  long :  — 
You  shall  never  light,  in  a  summer  quest 

The  bushes  among  — 
Shall  never  light  on  a  prouder  sitter, 

A  fairer  nestful,  nor  ever  know 
A  softer  sound  than  their  tender  twitter, 
That  wind-like  did  come  and  so. 


46 


Songs  of  Seven. 


I  had  a  nestful  ouce  of  my  own, 
Ah  happy,  happy  I ! 
Eight  dearly  I  loved  them  :  but  when  they 


were  grown 


They  spread  out  their  wings  to  fly 
0,  one  after  one  they  flew  aw^ay 

Far  up  to  the  heavenly  Ijlue, 
To  the  better  country,  the  upper  day, 


V 


And 


I  wish  I  was  going  too. 


I  pray  you,  what  is  the  nest  to  me, 

My  empty  nest  ? 
And  what  is  the  sliore  where  I  stood  to  see 

My  lioat  sail  down  to  the  west  ? 
Can  I  call  that  home  where  I  anchor  yet, 

Though  my  good  man  has  sailed  ? 


Songs  of  Seven. 


47 


Can  I  call  that  home  where  my  iiest  was  set. 

Now  all  its  hope  hath  failed  ? 
Nay,  but  the  port  where  my  sailor  went, 

And  the  land  where  my  nestlings  be,  — 
There  is  the  home  where  my  thoughts  are  sent. 

The  only  home  for  me  — 

Ah  me ! 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


1881 


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